Gracie Donnelly didn't know it, but her single days were numbered.
***
Gracie collapsed the legs on a table they'd used last night. Her temper had calmed down to a slow simmer, leaving her feeling grumpy and hollow. Jordan walked into the barn and lifted the table out of her hands, stacking it against a wall.
"You did all of these on your own?"
"Yep." Gracie moved to the other side of the barn. She didn't feel like making small talk, big talk or any kind of talk. Her heart felt like it had been squished under size thirteen cowboy boots and hung out to dry.
Jordan kept giving her sideways glances as she yanked crepe paper and balloons off the walls. He must have known something was up because he didn't say much. He just pointed at the next job that needed doing.
"You okay?"
Gracie looked up from sweeping the floor, flicking straw dust from her face. "Just dandy."
"You've worked your butt off in here. Why not call it quits for the morning? You can take my work truck and go exploring. I'll get a ride home with someone else."
Looking through the barn doors at the early morning sunshine, Gracie was tempted to make a run for it. There were lots of places she hadn't seen and lots of reasons why she didn't want to stay on the ranch. Her conscience tweaked at the thought of the work left to do. "What about the others?"
Jordan looked around at the near spotless barn. "We've just about cleaned up everything for them. I don't think they're going to miss one of their star crew if you're not here to help finish off." Jordan grabbed her jacket, pushing her toward the barn doors. "Off with you woman."
Gracie looked at her watch. It was the perfect time to go hiking in the mountains. She'd be able to enjoy the scenery without having to dodge tour groups or families out for a day in the sun. She took the keys dangling from his fingers and held them tight.
"Okay, I'm going. Just keep that brother of yours away from me. He's not in my good books at the moment."
Jordan grinned. "I never would have guessed."
When Gracie left the barn, she didn't pay much attention to the sound of tractors working in the fields or the breeze flicking the sheets on the clothesline. All she cared about was keeping as far away as possible from Trent. His truck was nowhere in sight, so she drove across to the house and raided the kitchen for a picnic lunch.
Grabbing her backpack and a map, she headed out the door, leaving a brief note on the counter. She doubted Trent would be worried about her anyway. He had far too many other pressing things on his mind. Like finding a woman desperate enough to live out here so he could raise his children and talk to the cows all day.
As she drove along the highway, the knots in her stomach slowly unraveled, disappearing in a puff of air like the fluffy white clouds circling the mountains. Whatever woman took Trent on needed to understand the full extent of his relationship issues. It was just as well she'd seen his proposal for what it was and not been sucked into believing the man actually had feelings for her.
She followed the road signs to Bridger Bowl. As soon as she'd parked Jordan's truck she grabbed her map and headed across to one of the hiking trails. The further she walked, the less she thought about Trent. So she kept walking, kept pounding the dirt track taking her further into the mountains.
She listened to the screech of an eagle as it rose in the sky, watched sunshine bathe the meadow in a dew fresh glow and breathed in the clean, sweet smell of pine trees.
Thousands of people came here every year and it was easy to see why. The slope of the mountain screamed out for a blanket of thick white snow. Gracie could almost hear the soft swish of skis as they cut across the dips and ridges surrounding her and feel the cold bite of ice against her skin. She sighed, knowing she wouldn't be anywhere near Montana come winter.
After another half hour of walking, she pulled a bottle of water out of her backpack and took a long, cool drink. A squirrel poked his head out of the wildflowers growing either side of the trail. He looked at her then scuttled behind some rocks, his gray speckled body disappearing out of sight. Gracie grinned when his head popped up again, further along the track.
She pulled out her map, ran her finger along a red dotted line and realized she'd walked further than she thought. She glanced at her watch, then back at the map. The next fork in the trail didn't look too far away and it was such a beautiful day that she couldn't see any reason not to keep walking.
She gazed at the mountains soaring above her and took a deep breath. She had no idea how to get herself out of the mess she'd created with Trent or what to say when she got back. But maybe it didn't matter. Maybe everything would sort itself out without any interference from her. And maybe a pink pig had just floated past in the sky.
***
"Where have you been?"
Dropping her backpack on the kitchen floor, Gracie risked a quick glance in Trent's direction. He stood in his office doorway looking like Lucifer reincarnated. Arms folded across his chest, legs braced for combat, and a stubborn jut to his jaw all meant one thing. Trouble. All he needed was steam coming out his ears and he would have had the whole package wrapped up tight.
So much for not knowing what to say when she returned. Giving him a level stare, she reached in the fridge for the juice. "I drove over to Bridger Bowl and went for a hike along one of the trails."
"On your own?"
She knew where this conversation was going and she didn't like it. "Yes, on my own, Trent McKenzie. I'm thirty-one years old. I know how to look after myself." At his disbelieving stare she asked, "Didn't you get my note?"
"You mean the one that said you were going for a walk and you'd be back in a couple of hours?" There was no maybe about it, steam curled from his head, warning of an imminent eruption. "That was six and a half hours ago," he roared.
Gracie bit her tongue. She would not get annoyed with him. "I lost track of the time. I'm sorry if you were worried."
Uncrossing his arms, he took a deep breath, letting his gaze travel slowly down her body.
A lash of raw heat scorched every inch of her bare skin. Lucifer had definitely arrived.
"You don't look as though you're any worse for wear, just a bit of sunburn."
She didn't know whether he was annoyed or relieved that she'd escaped any major damage.
Trent scowled some more. "Next time let me know where you're planning on going?and take your cell phone."
Her teeth snapped shut. A bloody tongue would put the finishing touch on his lecture for irresponsible behavior. If he didn't quit soon, she'd lose what patience her hike had inspired and let him know exactly what dark thoughts were swirling around her head. "Okay," she ground out. "I can do that."
Rubbing his hand along his jaw, he stared down at her backpack. "Are you hungry?"
"What?"
"Food. Did you take anything to eat?"
"Of course I took food with me."
Trent crossed his arms in front of his chest, then dropped them to his side. "Good?that's good."
Turning back to the counter, Gracie poured some juice into a glass and wondered what else was on Trent's mind. He never fidgeted, but right now he looked as though he didn't know what to do with himself.
"I want to apologize. For this morning." He cleared his throat. "I want to apologize for putting you in an awkward position. It was never my intention to upset you with my offer of marriage. Can we still be friends?"
Her glass sat forgotten on the counter. An apology had been the last thing she'd been expecting. Before she'd left Bridger Bowl, she'd decided that everything that had happened between them couldn't possibly work itself out. She needed to pack her bags and head into Bozeman before she got herself more involved in Trent's life. Now she didn't know what to do.
Gracie gazed at the six-foot cowboy standing uncertainly in the middle of the room. Why wasn't he sulking like all the other men she knew would have been? He hadn't gotten what he wanted, would never get what he wanted from her, s
o why was he suddenly being so nice? Especially after nearly tearing her head off for arriving back at the ranch a few hours late.
In some perverse way, it made total sense that he would be an exception to every rule she could imagine. From the moment she'd waved goodbye to her friends in New Zealand, nothing had gone according to plan. So why should Trent be any different? Here he was, apologizing for asking her to marry him. Apologizing for not loving her enough to give her what she really wanted.
Gritting her teeth, she tried to conjure up a spark of self-righteousness. It didn't work. Whenever Gracie was around him, her body refused to listen to her brain. Some massive chemical imbalance reduced her mental agility to zero. She had to squash down the soft spot inflating in the region of her heart. Attempting not to look like a total pushover, she walked across to him, slowly extending her arm. "Friends."
His eyes lit up at the softly spoken truce.
Damn. That soft spot inside Gracie just got bigger.
He clasped his warm hand around hers. "Friends."
***
Gracie buried herself deeper under her quilt, ignoring the banging on her bedroom door.
"Are you getting out of bed, sleepyhead, or do I have to come in there and wake you up?"
"Go away. It can't be five-thirty yet."
"On the dot. If you're not downstairs in ten minutes the deals off."
Pushing her hair out of her eyes, Gracie squinted at the alarm clock and groaned. They'd both been trying hard all week to forget about Trent's unwanted marriage proposal and so far their truce had been working.
A late night at Karen's house had left cobwebs in her brain that needed to be swept away quick smart. Trent had offered to take her across to Yellowstone National Park for a hike to Union Falls. It was supposed to be one of the most spectacular waterfalls in the park and she wasn't about to let the opportunity pass her by. But she needed to be downstairs and ready to help on the ranch by six, otherwise there'd be no trip anywhere.
Dragging her feet down the stairs, she sniffed the unmistakable scent of freshly brewed coffee. At least one of them would be wide awake. "Ready and willing to work, sir."
Trent grinned at her. "I don't think you'll make the army with that salute. Here's your toast. I'll meet you out back in ten minutes."
For the next hour and a half, Gracie did her chores, catching up with Trent as he walked back to the barn with Jordan.
While they talked about the ranch, she wandered around the machinery parked beside the barn. The hay rake looked like a giant medieval torture rack. Six huge wheels with long spiky bits on the edges rotated along the ground, turning the grass before the baler got to work. There'd been a regular stream of hay baling contractors working on the ranch since she'd arrived. The tractors they drove were monsters. The wheels alone were taller than she was and they rumbled through the fields like an alien invasion from Mars. It was hot, noisy work, keeping the men busy from dawn till dusk.
Following Trent across the yard, Gracie caught sight of Adele hanging washing on the line. Giving her a wave, she walked up the stairs and into the house.
By eight o'clock they'd packed their lunch and were heading toward Yellowstone National Park, ready to discover the world of Yogi Bear.
Gracie looked up from the guide book she'd been studying. "It says here that the Union Falls are two hundred and fifty feet high. Imagine the speed the water must get to, traveling from that height."
"Mmm."
"And look at this. Did you know there are three hundred geysers and over two hundred and ninety waterfalls in the park?"
"No kidding."
She shot Trent a sideways look. "Do you really care about what I'm telling you?"
"Sure I do. I've just got other things on my mind."
"Like who you're going to marry?"
He glanced at her. "I've given up on that for the moment. After you went to bed, Jordan came back for his truck. He chewed my ear off about his dude ranch ideas. The man has a screw loose to think I'd even look at the idea of getting city slickers out here for a look at ranch life."
Gracie put her book away and turned toward him. "I think it's a great idea."
"Why doesn't that surprise me?" He sighed.
"You told me the other day you're making the land better than you found it. It makes sense to show people how special it is and let them experience it for themselves."
"Jordan's been talking to you, hasn't he?"
Gracie squirmed in her seat. "Maybe, but I like his ideas. The old barn would make a great bunkhouse for visitors. They could help with all types of chores like the ones I've been doing. Jordan could take them on some of the hiking trails and four-wheel-drive routes he's taken me on. They could even help with the cattle round-ups and haymaking."
"It's a lot of outlay for little return."
"It will be in the beginning, but once word gets out about what you're doing, bookings are bound to pick up. But it's more about letting people enjoy the land. Jordan doesn't want the ranch to be like an amusement park. It's a way of helping the land speak for itself and keeping it whole for the next generation." That she wouldn't be part of. Just thinking about a house full of junior Trent McKenzie's was enough to make her heart sink.
Trent looked straight ahead. He pulled his sunglasses out of his pocket and slid them onto his face. "At the rate Jordan and I are going, there won't be any future McKenzie generations. But I get your point."
Getting her point was more than he'd done in the past, so things might be looking up for Jordan's plans. Gracie opened her guide book, reading about the park while Trent navigated through the traffic and thought about family trees.
***
Gracie trudged along the trail behind Trent, sucking oxygen into her gasping lungs. "I thought you said we'd be hiking for four hours?"
"We're nearly back at the truck. Only another twenty minutes to go."
"That's what you said ten minutes ago."
"I lied." He grinned. "Fire me."
Gracie tried for a growl, but the noise coming out her mouth sounded like a scraggy wheeze.
Trent stopped in the middle of the path and took his backpack off his shoulders. "I need a drink."
She gave him a withering look. "Of course you do." Dropping her pack to the ground, she collapsed beside it. "I don't think I'll be able to move again."
"I could always give you a piggyback ride to the parking lot."
Gracie turned up her nose at his suggestion. "Do you know how embarrassing it would be if someone I knew saw me clinging to your back like a leech? Thanks, but I don't think so."
"Suit yourself," he shrugged. "It's your legs."
Reaching inside her pack, Gracie grabbed a bar of chocolate. As it melted in her mouth, she looked up at Trent. He was swigging back some water. "You know, cowboy. Apart from being bossy and emotionally deficient, you're a pretty good guy."
A spray of water exploded from his mouth and he choked on what had already made it down his throat. "What do you mean, emotionally deficient?"
Sucking on a piece of chocolate that had stuck to her back teeth, Gracie took her time answering. "Well, let's see. You don't want to marry for love, you just want the perks, including, but not limited to, the Triple L and children." Leaning back against her pack, she crossed her ankles in front of her. "I think you're scared to let someone into your heart again. You've emotionally detached yourself from human relationships because you were dealt a lethal blow after your first wife left and you've never recovered." Smiling sweetly at his scowl, she asked, "Want a piece of chocolate?"
Trent moved sideways as a group of tourists walked past.
Gracie gave them a sunny smile and a friendly wave in case they mistook her for a sweaty slug and stepped on her. After they'd gone, she caught a look on Trent's face that wasn't healthy. She stood up real fast.
Her pack bumped against her back as she high-tailed it along the dirt trail. Thirty feet later Trent still hadn't made an appearanc
e. Looking over her shoulder, she yelled, "Come on. What's taking you so long?"
"I refuse to walk with a woman who thinks I'm emotionally deficient when she hasn't allowed herself to fall in love with a man. All that tells me, Gracie Donnelly, is that she's worried he'll leave her, just like her father."
She stared back down the trail. Trent didn't move. Even from this distance she could feel how hurt he was. He was looking for a wife, and she'd turned the whole thing into some kind of sideshow. It wasn't as if she was the leading expert on how normal people acted. For most of her life she'd run scared from any kind of relationship and up until now it had suited her fine.
"I've fallen in love."
"Yeah? Who was he? And anyone under the age of sixteen doesn't count."
Gracie stuck her hands on her hips and glared. "I've forgotten his name, okay?"
"Yeah right. If I'm emotionally deficient, then you're an emotional chicken."
"I'm not a chicken."
"Prove it."
"How? By marrying you? We've already been down that road and it leads to a dead end."
Trent started walking toward her. "You could do a lot worse, you know."
Yeah. She did know. She liked living with him. She enjoyed his company and even laughed at the corny jokes he thought were hilarious. And then there was the chemical explosion that left her feeling wobbly whenever they touched. It was just the bit about him not loving her that made marriage the worst thing they could ever do.
Trent stopped in the middle of the path. "What's going through that pretty head of yours?"
She gazed at the heartthrob standing in the middle of Yellowstone National Park, wondering how she could have been so thoughtless. "I'm sorry about the emotionally deficient comment."
He took a deep breath, staring at her so intently that she felt as though he was looking into her soul.
Gracie's heart raced, waiting for what he would say next.
Trent reached forward and rubbed his thumb along her cheek. "No chicken feathers here, either."
She let go of the breath that she didn't know she'd been holding. A bubble of mischief fizzed inside her body. "I must be the craziest woman in the world to turn down your offer of marital bliss. And I think you really need to reassess your chicken testing technique." Dropping her pack to the ground, she started flapping her arms in the air, chirping like a chicken on steroids.